A month had passed since Feiyin had returned to the capital. Though the city remained ever restless, for once, he could afford to slightly relax. The moment he arrived, he found the two supervising Deacons already stationed there- one from the Saint Blood Branch and the other from the Saint Body Branch- overseeing movement of the disciples and making sure that their missions were done properly.
Their presence meant one thing: Feiyin had to lessen his own. Any unusual rise in influence or display of strength would draw their gaze. He couldn't risk it, not yet. So, he allowed himself to melt into the background, his activities reduced to that of an ordinary yet capable first class outer disciple with a specialization in alchemy. No grand demonstrations. Only the patient labor of an alchemist.
He kept his communication with Ruan and Qingling to a minimum, and mostly used the spiritual whispering technique to keep them up to date. He spent his days at the sect's local base, taking on orders to refine pills or artifacts. That gave him the perfect opportunity to deepen his affinity with the elements he lacked. He carefully took on commissions while working on products related to wind, ice, and lightning, the elements he had yet to integrate into his nexuses.
Through the process of refining, of channeling essence qi imbued with the five elements through his hands and shaping elemental resonance into pills or tools, he gradually became more familiar with their rhythms. The sharp edge of wind, the transient purity of ice, the chaotic pulse of lightning- they were unlike the five he had already mastered. But he was learning.
At night, he immersed himself in the cultivation jade slip, combing through ancient insights, obscure texts, and fragments of lost knowledge. He wasn't looking for a shortcut- just a thread, a hint, anything that could illuminate the path forward.
And then, one evening, it came to him.
The answer had always been close- within his hands.
His guqin.
When he first picked up the instrument so long ago, he had wanted to compose a Song of the World. A symphony that captured the totality of nature as he perceived it in his oscillation sense and share it with his parents. That dream had never left him, only slept in the back of his mind.
Why not now?
He already had five of the eight elemental intents. His musical intent had matured alongside them, and had even entered the awakened stage. Why couldn't music be the bridge that connected the five to the three missing ones? Why couldn't the world-song guide his essence qi into the harmony he felt was missing?
It became his obsession.
He spent his nights experimenting, playing notes imbued with elemental resonance, searching for the subtle shifts that might unveil deeper harmonies. Wind responded best to gentle, fluttering motifs, with airy passages that lifted and drifted like a breeze. Ice resonated through clear, sustained tones- notes held with perfect stillness, evoking frigidity and crystalline strength. Lightning, however, was the most elusive. It likes to build up tension, like the calm before the storm, and reacts to sharp, passionate crescendos, bursts of energy and sudden pauses- like flashes between silence and impact.
He began weaving each of his elemental intents into his compositions, not as disparate motifs but as expressions of the world's voice. Fire surged with phrases that throbbed with fervor, blazing into crescendos that crackled and hissed. Water flowed through fluid, glissando-like transitions, its sound shifting like eddies in a stream, persistent and endlessly curving. Earth manifested in rich, grounded chords, each note struck with solemnity and purpose, creating a foundation that anchored the rest. Wood arose in cyclical refrains, layered melodies that pulsed with organic rhythm and gentle momentum, reminiscent of trees swaying in the wind. Metal sang in crips overtones- clean, shimmering notes that rang with a chilling resonance, slicing through silence with graceful precision.
Feiyin didn't merely play these elements- he intended to weave them into a single piece, harmonizing their nature into a chorus of the world's breath. His goal wasn't imitation, but evocation: to bring them into accord, to birth a music that whispered the unity of the elements. From this convergence, he would craft the bridge toward the three remaining elements, each one waiting like a note unstruck.
Music, as he had once realized, was essence given voice. It was the language of the elements, and perhaps the only one capable of uniting them all on his path.
He already had a clear picture of his goal: the natural world. If his guqin could mimic the cadence of nature itself, perhaps it could coax the last three pieces into alignment. After all, he already had the five fundamental elements, and only three were missing, so why couldn't he use both his musical and elemental intents to fill the gap?
For an entire month, while the Deacons remained in the capital, Feiyin toiled in this hidden symphony. Outwardly, he was an alchemist. Quiet. Useful. Obedient. Inwardly, he was a composer of something far greater.
But truthfully, it had been suffocating.
One particular afternoon, Feiyin had been called in to report the completion of an artifact order- a long spear for battlefield use. He stood before Deacon Lin from the Saint Body Branch, the man's expression pinched with arrogance as he inspected the item with a single glance, then waved his hand dismissively.
"Acceptable," the Deacon said, not even looking up. "You're efficient for an outer disciple. Keep this up."
Feiyin bowed with a simple smile, as expected, but inside, he felt a rising tension. Time was slipping by, every day under their eyes making it harder to prepare for his next step. He had imposed a deadline on himself, and now he was beginning to wonder if he'd have to act in plain defiance of their presence. The weight of that uncertainty pressed down harder than their scrutiny.
So when the news finally came that the Deacons had departed, returning to the sect to deliver their reports, it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his chest.
Feiyin exhaled, long and slow, and for the first time in weeks, his breath didn't catch in his throat. The very air seemed freer now. Lighter. He could move. He could act.
And it wasn't just the Deacons- Ba Shanyue had also left for a separate mission, sent north to survey a distant ridge. With him gone as well, the last pair of eyes within the inner circles had vanished.
He didn't wait a second longer.
He wasted no time.
Within the hour, he had contacted Ruan and Qingling, arranging a new plan. Together, they would coordinate the usage of one of the skyships. On paper, it was a scouting mission- simple, harmless, routine. In truth, it was an opportunity.
He would soar above the clouds. Touch the sky. Feel the purity of the upper winds, the bite of unfiltered ice essence, the raw spark of lightning in its home domain. It was the closest he could get to their source without drawing attention.
And with snow already falling and only one week left before winter officially arrived, he had no time to waste. This was the culmination of everything- the knowledge he'd gathered, the harmonies he'd threaded, the elemental rhythms he had tuned through music and thought.
All of it had built to this moment. This gamble he would take to determine if he could walk the path he envisioned.
He stood now at the edge of the skyship, eyes distant, heart racing in quiet anticipation. The guqin rested beside him, as it always had.
He whispered to the wind.
"Let's see if I was right."
---
Away from the plains where Xu's capital was situated, near a mountain range that demarcated the center of the continent from the south, a skyship landed.
Soldiers could be seen greeting a tall, broad-shouldered figure descending the ramp. His face was carved with lines of quiet resolve, his gaze sharp as iron. Behind him followed six robed cultivators whose stern expressions and practiced strides revealed the discipline of military service, even though their robes bore no insignias.
Behind them descended a graceful woman with obsidian-black hair cascading down her back, a child nestled in her arms. Her amethyst eyes scanned the horizon, full of longing and quiet determination. The child in her embrace- no older than two- had inherited Cai Feng's straight nose and her mother's luminous eyes. Her tiny hands clutched the woman's robes, her head resting against her shoulder.
Cai Feng, once a general of a fallen nation and now an active commander within the Spirit Slaying Alliance, had made his decision the moment he read the letter left behind by his son. After the initial shock, he calmed and questioned the courier merchant for every shred of detail. He then informed Mei Liao, who, after an emotional breakdown mixing both joy and sorrow, declared without hesitation that she would accompany him.
With their goal clear, Cai Feng had requested use of an official skyship. The Alliance, fully aware of the couple's true reason for joining and understanding their importance, granted it without delay. A few trusted men from Cai Feng's unit insisted on joining the journey, their loyalty unwavering.
As the skyship lowered, the wind stirring the long coat at Cai Feng's back, one of the armored men saluted.
"Commander, we will wait here as instructed. I wish you the best in finding your son!"
Cai Feng nodded solemnly, though the spark of hope in his eyes gleamed more brightly than steel. "I count on you, Officer Lei."
He turned to the soldiers who had come with him. Before he could say anything more, Sun Ke, who had by now reached his twenties and sported a small chin beard, with his signature teasing smile responded
"Captain," Sun Ke said, "We're not strangers, so don't be so formal. I came along since I also hope to find Feiyin. After all, the candies I've been stockpiling in the last few years will go bad if left uneaten, and with Meimei still not old enough, I can only hand them over to him."
At that, a middle-aged man with stern features and a weathered face scoffed with a laugh, "As if you have any candies left, don't think I didn't see you sneak a few after training."
The group broke into light chuckles, and just as Sun Ke turned to face Jiang to retort again, Mei Liao let out a soft chuckle of her own. Her expression, which had been tight with anxious anticipation since their departure, eased slightly.
"Shush," she murmured with a small smile, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek as she looked down at the bundle in her arms. "You'll wake Meimei if you keep bickering like old men."
The soldiers fell silent, a few exchanging sheepish grins. The atmosphere softened, warmed by the simple presence of family among warriors.